


Idiots in Love

by jagaimocchi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, Fun, M/M, References to sexual activity, Slightly older characters (university/college), blushing boyfriends, established!aokise, first serious relationship, im tagging fluff again because that is primarily what this series is, mild KagaKuro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5953306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jagaimocchi/pseuds/jagaimocchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Daiki and Ryouta started dating, they’ve been avoiding hanging out with their friends together for fear of it being obvious. Effectively in a secret relationship, two boys who are very much in love try to come to terms with how to be open about their relationship.</p><p>Series of one-shots all in the same universe, published in chronological order. Later chapters may reference earlier chapters but it won't be crucial to the plot.</p><p>4. Ryouta reminisces about how he and Daiki got together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At Eight Months

**Author's Note:**

> Note (19/2/2016): I'm trying out this structure where the whole story is in essence a series of one-shots (which is to say, I will not end on a cliffhanger). I'll publish each chapter/one-shot as I write them. I intend to publish in chronological order with later chapters referencing earlier chapters, but it will not be essential for you to have read a previous chapter for a later chapter to make contextual sense. I aim to develop Ryouta and Daiki and their attitude towards their relationship so it will help to read from the beginning, but ultimately, I want this to be a dip-in-dip-out-whenever-you-want kinda fic. ^^; Hope that made sense, and thanks for reading. Peace out. 
> 
> Original note: I meant to publish this on Valentine's Day, but I'm away at the weekend and I got too excited at the prospect of publishing a new fic so I'm putting this up now. Sincerely hope you enjoy it. Please do leave me your thoughts :)
> 
> As with my other fics, get ready for some disgustingly fluffy fluff fluff（￣ー+￣）

Of the people who mattered to Daiki, there were only two people who knew that he and Ryouta were dating. Of course it was the two people who could read straight through Daiki. Satsuki had worked it out first.

“Oh, Dai-chan! Look! It’s Ki-chan!”

Daiki had the urge to whip around but refrained; instead, turning around at what he hoped was a normal speed.

 _What is that idiot doing here?!_ He thought, his face showing none of the panic inside _. He said he was working today!_

It was a scene Daiki had witnessed many times before—Ryouta, hiding his face behind massive sunglasses in a futile attempt to hide his identity as a group of excited girls crowded around him. This time, however, something was different—this time, Ryouta was holding one of the girls’ hand. Daiki’s eyes widened as he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

He saw Ryouta’s lips form the word ‘ _Run_ ’ before he and the girl fled from the madding crowd.

Clenching his fists, Daiki turned back around and marched in the direction he and Satsuki had been heading in before they’d been so rudely interrupted.

“Dai-chan? Oh, hey! Wait up!”

His childhood friend jogged lightly to his side and peered up at him curiously.

“Are you okay, Dai-chan?”

“I’m _fine_.”

It came out with more bite than he’d intended. Satsuki narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion.

“...Right, okay. So where are we going?”

As Ryouta had said that he was working that weekend, Daiki had decided to spend some time with Satsuki, something they no longer had much opportunity to do ever since they’d decided—after a long and difficult talk—to go to separate universities. It had been so long since their last meet up that Daiki had actually decided to take Satsuki somewhere nice: an ice cream parlour that Ryouta liked in Kanagawa. It had the advantages of being out of the way so that it was cheaper and Daiki could afford it on his part-time convenience store salary, and of being miles and miles away from Ryouta’s modelling agency in central Tokyo so that there was no chance they’d bump into each other unexpectedly.

Or so that had been the plan.

As Daiki swerved round a corner, ignoring Satsuki’s question, he strode purposefully towards the ice cream parlour at the end of the street. Satsuki appeared to break into a brisk walk as she followed just after Daiki in silence.

When he shoved the door open and the tinkling bell above the door sounded, the waitress who usually served him jumped.

“O-Oh, thank goodness it’s just you Aomine-san. I thought it might have been an angry customer then. Is Kise-kun not with you today?”

Daiki growled a fierce “No” before the waitress promptly nodded, looking a little frightened but not too surprised as she led Daiki and Satsuki to a table by the window. Once they were sat down, the waitress asked Daiki if he was having his regular, to which he grunted an affirmative.

“I’ll, er, have whatever he’s having,” Satsuki smiled, trying her best to make up for her friend’s rudeness. Once the waitress was out of earshot, she hissed, “Dai-chan! What on earth is wrong with you?! You shouldn’t be so rude to the waitress! It’s not her fault you’re in a shitty mood!”

Daiki, who had been staring out of the window trying to control his rage, glanced at Satsuki then said, “She’s seen worse.”

Satsuki looked at him in confusion but said nothing. She didn’t know that Daiki was referring to that time he and Ryouta had actually had a row in the little parlour, when he’d made Ryouta cry. What had that argument been about again?

_“She’s my COLLEAGUE!”_

_“Oh, great. So you hold hands with all your colleagues then!”_

_“NO! But when she’s about to get mauled by her fans then, YES.”_

...Oh. It was that time he’d seen a tabloid story about Ryouta and some model who wasn’t, in Daiki’s opinion, half as pretty as Horikita Mai (or even a tenth as pretty as Ryouta), holding hands.

_“You need to sort out your jealousy issues or we’re not going to last very long, Aominecchi!”_

_“Oh? Is that a threat?”_

_“No! I’m just saying that—_

_“Well it sure sounds like a threat to me! I don’t want to be bound to some ass who’s going to act like cheating on me is no big deal!”_

_“I’m not—Aominecchi, why would you—I mean.”_

_Ryouta had sat in stunned silence as Daiki poked furiously at his chocolate and caramel sundae. There wasn’t much left of it anymore but he didn’t want to have to look up to see Ryouta crying. He already knew he was._

_A hand, far too perfect for someone who handled basketballs, reached out across the table and wrapped itself around Daiki’s fist._

_“Daiki.” Ryouta’s voice was gentle and enticing; before he could stop himself, Daiki’s eyes were already glued to Ryouta’s. “I love you. And I’d never. So stop this. Please?”_

_After a moment of muffled indignation, Daiki unclenched his fist and flipped his hand over so that he could hold Ryouta’s hand._

_“Is it okay to...?” He asked quietly, aware that they didn’t usually hold hands (or have very loud confrontations) in public. Ryouta smiled, a mixture of relief and bliss spreading over his features._

_“You’re lucky the waitress on duty at the moment is Moriyama-senpai’s girlfriend and that they owe me because_ I _introduced them.”_

Feeling a mixture of pathetic and upset, Daiki propped his head up with one elbow on the table and sighed. Satsuki looked shocked. Moriyama-senpai’s girlfriend came back to their table with two chocolate and caramel sundaes then wished them a good meal before retreating.

Satsuki realised that Daiki was right: the waitress was too unfazed by Daiki’s behaviour. _She must have seen worse._

Silently digging into their identical sundaes, Satsuki watched Daiki intently before deciding to approach the topic from a different angle.

“This is really delicious. How did you know this place existed?”

“I dunno.”

“Hmm...I guess someone must have brought you here.”

“Yeah.”

“Were you here on a date?”

“Sorta.”

“Was it with Ki-chan?”

Well he really walked right into that one. Pausing to consider what to say (and knowing full well he could never lie to Satsuki of all people), Satsuki let out an excited squeal.

“How long has this been going on for?!”

Daiki could feel the tips of his ears going red. He hadn’t had this conversation with anyone; had been actively avoiding having this conversation with anyone. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep Ryouta a secret or anything, it was just that the whole situation was sort of embarrassing and made him feel uncomfortable, and Ryouta and he had been friends for so long he didn’t really know how to break the news to everyone.

Rubbing his face with his hand as Satsuki beamed from across the table at him, he replied, “Eight months.”

“Eight months?!” Satsuki’s voice was so high, Daiki winced. “I don’t think you’ve ever kept a secret from me for that long, Dai-chan. I also don’t think you’ve ever had a relationship that’s lasted that long.”

“Yeah, well.” Now Daiki was feeling _really_ awkward. “It’s Kise isn’t it.”

Satsuki looked like she was about to cry as she frantically stuffed several spoons of sundae into her mouth in glee. Swallowing hard and smacking her lips, she said, “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so happy for you and Ki-chan, Dai-chan. Oh my goodness.”

Daiki couldn’t help the small smile that made its way to his lips. Even though talking about it made him feel uncomfortable, in that moment he felt oddly proud.

“Tell me everything,” Satsuki continued, wiping her eyes with a smile, “Wait. Does Tetsu-kun know? Do the others know?”

“No, nobody knows,” Daiki said, finally managing to relax a little. “And you can’t tell them either. Kise and I don’t want you to.”

“’ _Kise and I’._ Oh my god.”

“Shut up!” Daiki blushed bright red and almost threw his spoon at her, but not wanting to risk actually hurting his best friend, instead he ripped a bunch of napkins from the napkin-holder and threw those instead. Satsuki laughed loudly, the noise coming straight from her diaphragm.

“I can’t believe you’re blushing. Aomine Daiki, blushing. Please can I tell Tetsu-kun at least? I want to send him photos.”

Daiki ripped another handful of napkins from their holder and would have thrown more at Satsuki had the waitress not come over to ask him to “Please. Stop.”

*

Eight months turned into nine, and Daiki was considering how he and Ryouta might start telling people they were dating. It was getting difficult to time either of their commitments so that one ‘happened’ to coincide with a GoM meeting; or rather, as Daiki’s schedule was usually free save for the odd shift at the convenience store and occasionally helping his mother with something, it was Ryouta who often had to make his commitments clash. And he was getting real withdrawal symptoms from not having seen Tetsu for so long.

_“Kurokocchiiiiiiii,” Ryouta whined, rolling around restlessly on Daiki’s bed as Daiki played on his video game console. “Kurokocchiiiiii.”_

_Daiki tried ignoring Ryouta, but as was usually the case, his blond boyfriend continued even without encouragement._

_“I miss hiiiiiiiiiiiiiim. Pleeeeease can I go to the next meeting, pleeeeeeeeeeeeease.”_

_“No. We talked about this, Kise. You go to one meeting for every two I go to.”_

_“But when we agreed that I didn’t realise how much I’d miss Kurokocchi! I want to go to this one! I want to gooooooooo.”_

_“Why don’t you just go see him by yourself? I do it sometimes—_

_“You go see Kurokocchi by yourself?”_

_“Yeah, duh.”_

_“You must really love Kurokocchi...”_

_Daiki’s left eye twitched. The silence that ensued made him tense._

_“Oi,” he said over his shoulder, “Say something.”_

_“If you, me and Kurokocchi were on a boat and the boat capsized, who would you save first, me or Kurokocchi?”_

_“Hands down, Tetsu.”_

_“Aominecchi!!”_

_“Only because you’re probably the reason the boat capsized in the first place!”_

_Setting down his controller and giving up on his fruitless game, Daiki tackled his boyfriend on the bed, furiously tickling him until Ryouta was laughing so hard he was crying for Daiki to stop. Daiki did what he always did in these situations and collapsed all one hundred and eighty seven pounds of himself on top of Ryouta, earning him a suffocated “Aominecchi!” as he moved onto attacking Ryouta’s face with kisses._

So it was during dinnertime while he was pondering how they might even begin to tell people they were dating that his mother asked him, “So Daiki. How’s your love life?”

On the verge of spitting out his miso soup but skilfully swallowing it at the last minute, Daiki tried to muster a look of disinterest.

“Er, boring.”

He wanted to ask why she’d asked but at the same time he didn’t want to open a can of worms. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he might have to tell his mother about Ryouta. In fact, he’d had it in his head that he wouldn’t tell his mother (and god forbid his father) about any relationship until he’d either gotten someone pregnant and there was no getting out of it, or he was planning on tying the knot, in which case they sort of needed to know for the family registry.    

His mother hummed thoughtfully, getting up from her seat to refill her bowl of soup.

“Well, I was thinking that unless you had someone you liked, I’d try to set you up with the Tachibana’s daughter. You know the family who used to look after you while I accompanied your father on trips?”

Daiki pulled a face. “Ew, no. We never got along.”

“Well, I did hear some stories from Tachibana-san about you putting ants in Miyu’s underwear drawer.”

Daiki’s mum sighed but smiled fondly at her son as she took up her seat back at the dinner table. Then she said something that made Daiki really glad he’d already finished his mouthful of soup.

“Well, whoever it is you’re sleeping with I’d like to meet them. You’re getting worse at hiding the condoms, and I’d much rather we talked about it.”

*

“Where exactly did you hide the condoms?!” Ryouta hissed as they made their way to Daiki’s house. The atmosphere between them was different today even though Ryouta was round his house all the time—at least three times a week, in fact. Daiki always made sure Ryouta was out by six in the evening though so that when his mother got home she’d be none the wiser. Though that seemed irrelevant now.

“Do you mean the used ones or the boxes?”

Ryouta stepped on his foot.

“All right! Geez. Well they had a sale on condoms at the convenience store so I bought a ton. You know we get through them quick. There’s your dick and then mine, and then if we do it multiple times in a day—”

“ _I know._ How many boxes did you buy for your mother to notice?!”

“...A lot. But I mean. I didn’t think she’d be suspicious or anything.”

“ _Where did you put them_?!”

“Just. Y’know. Sort of everywhere.”

Daiki rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. Okay, so he hadn’t really hidden them so much as scattered a few boxes around his house, but his mother worked fulltime and she didn’t really have time to clean or rummage around in the cupboards, so he thought she wouldn’t notice until they’d used up at least a few boxes.

Ryouta looked extremely embarrassed. Hiding his face in his hands—an act that Daiki found adorable and usually enjoyed being the cause of—he said, “She’s going to think I’m a sex fiend, Aominecchi. A sex fiend.”

Daiki burst out laughing.

When they reached the Aomine household, Daiki could tell Ryouta was nervous. His ‘sorry to disturb you’ upon entering the house was polite and cautious, and completely unlike himself. Daiki’s mother poked her head out from the living and dining room that joined onto the kitchen and upon seeing Ryouta, her eyes widened.

“Oh, Kise-kun. I wasn’t expecting—I mean, oh it’s been so long!”

Ryouta paused, giving Daiki a quizzical look before smiling shyly at Mrs. Aomine.

“Yes! How have you been, Aomine-san? I’m sorry to intrude on you this evening.”

“It’s quite all right! I mean. You’re. Daiki. Was Kise-kun who you meant when you said you’d be bringing Someone over tonight?”

Both Daiki’s mother and Ryouta looked at Daiki with perplexed expressions on their faces. Daiki, who had spent his time leisurely taking off his shoes as his boyfriend and his mother exchanged pleasantries, tried to act nonchalant.

“Yeah. Kise’s the Someone.”

Daiki’s mother blushed and withdrew into the kitchen, exclaiming a hurried, “Please do make yourself comfortable Kise-kun!!”

Once she was out of sight, Ryouta punched Daiki in the arm.

“Ow...” Daiki muttered, rubbing his arm.

“You didn’t tell her it was me?!” Ryouta whispered indignantly, spit hitting Daiki in the face. “How could you not tell her it was me?!”

“Well, I didn’t say it wasn’t you...”

“What on earth did you tell her?!”

“I told her I’d bring whoever it was to dinner on Thursday. Today’s Thursday. So she knew you were coming, she just didn’t know you were you.”

Ryouta fell silent for a moment, looking upset.

“Aominecchi. She was probably expecting some cute girl with huge breasts to walk through the door. Does she even know you’re bi?! I can’t believe you didn’t tell her it was me...I can’t...Do you know how embarrassing this is for me?!”

Daiki hadn’t thought it’d be embarrassing for Ryouta at all; he’d been so caught up on how to negotiate the meeting between his mother and his boyfriend that he hadn’t really considered Ryouta’s feelings. He regretted it though, seeing how close to tears Ryouta was.

“I’m...”

 _Sorry._ He wanted to say, but before he could finish, Ryouta shook his head and walked away from him. At the threshold from the hallway into the living-dining-kitchen space, Daiki saw Ryouta take a deep breath as though to steady himself. Like the professional he undoubtedly was, Ryouta entered the room with a smooth photo-ready smile.

“Aomine-san, can I help you with dinner?”

*

It was from that dinner that Daiki remembered just how much respect he had for both Ryouta and his mother.

After poking his head into the room and following Ryouta’s lead with a “Can I do anything?”, his mother had shooed him away.

“Go upstairs and clean your room so I don’t have to!” She’d said, evidently not wanting him anywhere near them.

After about twenty minutes of throwing his clothes from the floor and into his laundry basket, pretending each shirt and piece of dirty underwear was a basketball, he went downstairs quietly and overheard some of his mother and Ryouta’s conversation.

“...So you see, if you chop the carrots at a slant like this, you don’t have to put half as much strength in.”

“Oh! You’re right! Haha, I really have so much to learn. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. I’d be more surprised if you did know how to cook... Do you live at home still, Kise-kun?”

“Umm, well I go home most weekends but I go to university in Tokyo now, so I live in a dormitory on weekdays.”

“What do you do for meals?”

“Well, umm, I mean, I work a lot—

“Do you still model?”

“Yes I do!”

“Oh, well with a pretty face like yours I’m sure the girls–”

There was silence. Ryouta had also stopped chopping the carrots.

“...and the boys love you.”

Daiki could hear the sound of nervous laughter from both his mother and Ryouta. There was a period of silence that followed where all Daiki could hear was the methodical sound of a knife on a chopping board and his mother turning on the gas stove. Daiki considered entering but thought better of it, sliding down along the wall and seating himself on the wooden floorboards just outside the door.

“I’m...really no good at cooking,” Ryouta began, sounding nervous but genuine, “If I’m at work they hand out bentos to all the staff, and when I’m not at work, I usually eat out. If I do eat in, it’ll be because my mum gave me some food at the weekend, so all I have to do is microwave it.”

“What do you eat when you’re with Daiki?”

“Well, we started off at Maji burger...” Ryouta’s delightful laugh rang through to the hallway. “...but then, I wanted to introduce Aominecchi to more variety in his diet, so I took him to places I like going to, usually by the modelling agency or my dormitory, sometimes in Kanagawa.”

“Oh, what recommendations do you have for Kanagawa?”

“Seafood of course! Kanagawa is right by the ocean so the shrimps and the oysters are extra fresh!”

“Do you get enough vegetables?”

“Well they do say seaweed is really good for your skin and hair...”

“Spoken like a true model.”

They laughed. Daiki smiled, in spite of himself. After another pause, Daiki’s mother was the first to speak up.

“I remember when you two were back at Teikou, you used to call Daiki Aominecchi, didn’t you?”

“Haha, yeah...”

“Do you still call him that?”

“Umm, yeah...”

There was a brief shuffling of steps.

“It’s so strange. Young people these days, calling their partners by their last name.”

The gentle plop of vegetables being dropped into a pot of water.

“When Daiki’s father and I became an official couple, we immediately dropped the last names. I was just Kumiko, and he was just Satoshi. It made us feel...connected. And also like we were keeping a deep and precious secret only we knew about. Even when we were apart, hearing him say my name over the phone made me feel like we were instantly together again.”

“Oh right...”

“It’s a sign of closeness. Of family. You know?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Kise-kun.”

“Yes?”

“What’s your given name?”

“...Ryouta.”

“I think, that you should come round more often, Ryouta.”

Daiki’s breath hitched in his throat as silence came over the kitchen again. For what seemed like too long, all he could hear was the bubbling of the stew on the stove.

“I...I would really love that, Aomine-san.”

“Please, call me Kumiko.”

“K-Kumiko-san.”

“No ‘san’ necessary.”

“Ah...K-Kumiko...san...”

Daiki’s mother laughed loudly. He heard the sound of patting, and imagined that his mother must be patting Ryouta on the back.

“We’ll work on it,” she said gently. “Anyway, back to the food. I understand that a hardworking boy like you must be busy, but eating out all the time can’t be good for you! I’ll teach you some quick dishes you can make even when you’re in a rush and then, maybe we can work on some of Daiki’s favourites.”

“I... Thank you so much Aomi—Kumiko-san!”

“You’re welcome!”

Daiki grinned at the ceiling from his position on the floor. His mother was humming and she only did that when she was very happy.

“Um...” It was Ryouta. “A-Are teriyaki burgers hard to make?”

Daiki wanted to run in there and squash Ryouta’s face with the palms of his hands. How dare he ask something so adorable?! How dare he be so perfect?! As he tried hard to think of some way to regain his manhood after being so affected by his darned sweet boyfriend, meanwhile, Daiki’s mother laughed merrily in response.

“Not too hard, but it might be best to leave those to Maji Burger. They’re not worth the time and effort to make when you can buy them for a few hundred yen at the store.”

“O-Oh...”

“...But Daiki also loves teriyaki chicken served with a fresh helping of bakchoi, white rice, and some homemade miso soup. So maybe we can have a go at that?”

“That sounds great!” Daiki could hear Ryouta smile.

“Good! Then it’s decided.”

A pleasant quietness filled the room as the smell of delicious beef and vegetable stew wafted under the door and straight into Daiki’s nostrils. He was so consumed by the smell, desperately trying to stop his stomach from grumbling and giving his position away that he almost missed his mother’s quiet admission.

“I’m glad it was you, Ryouta.”

Ryouta must have been caught off guard too by his mother’s praise, because the next thing Daiki could hear was the sound of something metal falling to the floor as Ryouta apologised frantically; the sound of his mother’s laughter bouncing off the walls.

*

“Do any of your friends know?”

Daiki’s mother asked after Daiki had seen Ryouta off at the station. He almost hadn’t wanted to go home, so ridiculously elated as he was with how the evening had gone, but they’d managed to sneak in a chaste kiss on a crowded platform and it would have to do until they next saw each other. Which was only meant to be a few days later, but still felt a little too long.

“Satsuki does, but no one else. No.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

Daiki scratched the back of his head. His mother, who’d been watching a show on television, grabbed one of the cushions on the couch and threw it at him. Her aim was befitting of the mother of a basketball prodigy; it hit him with some force, square in the face.

“Aomine Daiki, tell your friends you’re dating that wonderful boy, now!”

Groaning and sinking to the floor where he was as his mother returned with a “hmph” to her television show, Daiki hugged the cushion to his chest, continuing where he’d left off—thinking about how to start telling people he and Ryouta were together.

 

*

 

** Bonus scene: **

“I can’t hang out this weekend, Aominecchi! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay. You working again?”

“Yeah...we’re doing a shoot by the seaside in Kanagawa this time! They’ve hired this French guy to do our costume and an American lady to do our make-up! I’m so excited! The American lady is really famous for the way she uses colours, so I’m really curious about what she might mix for me. I mean, people say that turquoise really suits amber eyes, but I don’t know if that’s true...? I’m not even sure my eyes are amber...do you think they’re amber? Do you think they’re gold? ...Aominecchi? Aominecchi! Are you still there?!”

Daiki fake snored over the phone. “All right, you’re working this weekend. I get it. I’ll ask Satsuki if she wants to hang.”

...And that was how Daiki completely forgot that Ryouta would actually be working in Kanagawa and not at his agency that weekend.


	2. Valentine Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aokise spend Valentine's Day together.

Daiki was lying on his side, staring blankly at the screen of the little television he usually only played games on. It was two in the afternoon on a Sunday and there he was: eyes glued to a children’s cartoon about some ten-year-old whose life ambition was to catch dinosaurs. Not that he was watching it. He'd been lying there for what seemed an eternity, waiting and waiting, and getting moodier by the second.

When the front door to his house finally clicked open, the blue-haired teen rolled over silently, folding his arms around himself and burying his face grumpily into his duvet as a cheery “Aominecchi! I’m here!” sounded from his entrance hall.

In his sullen mood, Daiki made no effort to reply. The volume of the television was on so low that he could hear everything that was happening downstairs; that, and Ryouta was obviously making no effort to be quiet.

He could hear the sound of running water briefly as Ryouta turned a tap on downstairs, and then the sound of cupboards being open and shut. There was the sound of something glass being put on a table surface and then some more running water.

Getting increasingly frustrated, at last Daiki gave up on his protest of silence and shouted, “Get your ass up here already!”

There was a tinkling of merry laughter as Ryouta replied, “Stop being so impatient!”

“I’ve waited for _hours_! Get the fuck up here!”

In his anger Daiki sat up on his bed, but upon hearing Ryouta’s footsteps as he climbed the stairs, the ace flopped back down again. Ryouta opened the door to find him splayed out like a starfish on top of the covers, face firmly planted in his pillow.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting Aominecchi~”

Daiki mumbled something Ryouta couldn’t hear. He heard Ryouta put something down on the floor before sitting himself down on the bed, his weight making the bed lean to one side. Gently stroking Daiki’s hair, Ryouta ran his fingers through the strands, brushing carefully and unknotting some of Daiki’s bed hair. After a while, he started to rub Daiki’s neck slowly, pressing his fingers and thumb into the muscle methodically.

“You’re tense here, Aominecchi.” 

Ryouta stated, taking his time as he massaged slowly and skilfully until Daiki felt the tension in his neck and shoulders ease a little. Finally, after sighing into his pillow dramatically, Daiki rolled over to face Ryouta. He huffed, seeing how beautiful his boyfriend looked with all that expensive hair spray still in his hair and the make-up not entirely wiped off. Ryouta smiled easily at him before leaning down and kissing Daiki between the brow, where his frown line was deepest.

“Stop looking so grumpy, grumpyhead,” Ryouta said, though he did look apologetic, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You said you’d be here by noon,” Daiki retorted, refusing to un-narrow his eyes.

“Ah I’m sorry, I guess I was being way too optimistic about leaving the event early,” Ryouta smiled feebly. He cupped Daiki’s face in his hand, making circle patterns with his thumb on the tanner man's cheek. “In my head I thought: I want to see Aominecchi as soon as possible, so I’ll just do a few photos and autographs then excuse myself. After all, I'm not the only talent there. Kitayama-senpai who’s really popular with the housewives is there, and so is Nana-chan who’s been on all those talk shows recently. It's a local Kanagawa event for Kanagawa entertainers, so it'll be pretty small! But yeah. I was really wrong. I guess I underestimated our joint appeal."

Tugging gently at Daiki’s cheek, Ryouta pulled his best ‘forgive me’ face before continuing, "My agent kept insisting I stay for a bit longer because this photographer would be here soon, or because this journalist wanted to interview me, or because the queue for me was still really long so I shouldn’t disappoint my fans, especially at a Valentine’s Day event. She kept asking me why I was in such a rush to leave and I didn’t know what to say so I just...stayed. I’m sorry, Aominecchi, please don’t be mad.”

Ryouta's 'forgive me' face was ten times worse than his 'can we go over there please' or even his 'I want to see Kurokocchi' face, and Daiki was getting hardened to their effects but he was a million years away from being immune to them. Rolling his eyes, Daiki propped himself up on his elbows, tutting as he scratched the back of his head viciously, ruining Ryouta’s earlier attempts at tame his bedhead.

“You need a haircut,” Ryouta observed as he leaned in to kiss Daiki on the lips. It was a deep kiss. The blond pressed himself against his boyfriend indulgently, sliding his tongue inside Daiki’s mouth and working his bottom lip between his own; every gentle suck a plea for forgiveness.

Daiki wrapped his arms around Ryouta’s waist, breathing in his scent as he fell back onto the bed, bringing Ryouta with him.

When they finally broke apart, Daiki was sure he must have looked satisfied because Ryouta smiled, gave him a peck on the lips, then sighed and nuzzled into the crook of Daiki’s neck.

“I think I might quit modelling you know,” he said quietly.

Daiki wasn’t actually very surprised to hear this. He knew that Ryouta had only started modelling because he was bored and he liked the attention. Besides, between basketball and modelling, Daiki knew that in Ryouta’s books basketball had, and would, always come first.

After Seirin’s victory over the Generation of Miracles back in their first year of high school, all of them had started working harder at basketball again but Ryouta, well, Ryouta had always worked hard at basketball anyway since―

 _I’m the one he has to beat,_ Daiki would think smugly to himself on the commutes between his house and his university campus; when he was eating lunch with Sakurai who went to the same university as him but still wouldn’t stop apologising; in class when thinking about Ryouta was a lot more entertaining than his professor talking about muscle mass ratio and its correlation with sport performance (because gosh darn it, sport should be played not analysed).

“It’s lost a lot of the thrill it used to give me,” Ryouta continued, finding Daiki’s hand with his own and lacing their fingers together, “Especially back in middle school, when you all used to make fun of me sometimes and I didn’t really have many other friends, it was nice, having all those fans. I never felt lonely with them around, so even when you and Murasakibaracchi started outgrowing yourselves and the basketball club sort of fell apart, I had them to fall back on. And in high school it was still sort of nice, especially when Kasamatsu-senpai and the other senpai left and it was a bit difficult to make genuine friendships with my kohai. But now...I just don’t feel like I need them anymore.”

Ryouta looked pointedly at Daiki, and Daiki felt his body temperature go up a little. He knew what Ryouta meant: _because_ _I’ve found something better._ _Because now I have you._ But Daiki wasn’t going to say that out loud for him, so instead, he stared blankly back at Ryouta and waited. Ryouta frowned and hit him lightly on the chest.

“You’re mean, Aominecchi.”

Daiki chuckled lightly. “Says the guy who just said he doesn’t need his loyal and adoring fans anymore.”

“I don’t...I just mean that. It’s hard. The only reason my agent hasn’t tried to get me bigger gigs is because I keep telling her I want to focus on my studies and finish university first. But our first year is almost over, and with how terrible my grades are I think she knows that studying isn’t really my passion. She doesn’t have a problem with me liking basketball or anything—she says we could even work with it—but at the end of the day, it’s about business isn’t it? She needs to know if investing her time and effort in me is going to get her the right financial rewards. If I cost more than the benefit I’m going to give her, I’m a bad business case, y’know? On another level, I also feel like I’m being unfair to her for dragging this on longer than I need to because I don’t want to be anything more than a minor celebrity.”

Ryouta fiddled with the zip of his jacket.

“You’ve thought about this a lot, huh?” Daiki raised an eyebrow. “You’re sounding like you’ve started paying attention in lectures as well, talkin’ about the _business_ _case_ and _financial rewards_. _Costs and benefits._ ”

Ryouta laughed. “Yes I am! Actually, sensei said something really encouraging to me the other week. He said that my notes and work during the year are actually sorta good, but that I’m just really terrible when I’m doing my finals and midterms. He says that he thinks it’s because I lose interest halfway through my three hour exam, and he’s not wrong.”

“Aw yeah?” Daiki started playing with Ryouta’s zip too. “So what, are you gunna get boring on me now and tell me you’re going to ace your next exam?”

“Pfft, if only,” Ryouta laughed again. Daiki enjoyed the way it shook the bed. “But maybe I’ll do a bit better, yes. Y’know, business is boring in class, but it can be really interesting in practice. And because I’ve been working since I was about 12, I think I have a lot more experience in terms of how the world actually works than a lot of people in my year.”

Daiki hummed thoughtfully. “I can’t wait till you’re loaded. Then you can buy me a huge house with a basketball court out back and I won’t have to do anything but keep you satisfied on the court and in bed.”

Ryouta was about to complain but puffed out his cheeks instead, pouting as he said in an amused tone, “You do realise you just admitted you’d be my house husband, right?”

He smirked arrogantly as Daiki aggressively replied, “Shut up. I never said that.”

“It’s what you were basically saying though.”

“Yeah, in your warped mind maybe. Just because you wanna marry me and weigh me down...”

“Who’s weighing who down now? Who was the one who got all moody and upset because he couldn’t wait for his boyfriend for another two hours or so?”

Daiki scowled as Ryouta, sensing victory, beamed and kissed Daiki on the nose. “You’re surprisingly clingy, Aominecchi. But I like it.”

Grumbling, Daiki turned away from Ryouta and tried to break free of their hold on one another. Ryouta was strong though and although Daiki was stronger, his heart wouldn’t let him resist too much when Ryouta pulled him back in for a hug, his front pressing into Daiki’s back. Gently, Ryouta placed a kiss on the back of Daiki’s neck.

“I’m kidding. You’d never weigh me down, Aominecchi,” Ryouta squeezed him. “You always inspire me to be better and better. I’m so happy We happened. I'm so happy.”

Daiki grunted, “Shut up you big sap.”

And that’s when he saw them: by the door, in a vase he’s sure his mother had used once upon a time, there was a bouquet of sunflowers, daisies, cornflowers and zinnias. In stark contrast to the rest of Daiki’s room, which was a mess of mainly dark-coloured clothing and dog-eared magazines, some takeaway trays and empty energy drink cans littered from his overflowing bin, the flowers were bright, fresh and feminine.

“Kise... Did you...did you buy me flowers?”

Ryouta buried his face deeper into the back of Daiki’s neck, his breath warm and ticklish. “Yes,” he said eventually, and Daiki could feel him smile against his bare skin.

“Why the...Kise. I’m not a girl.”

“No, but I liked them and I love you. So I bought them.”

Ryouta giggled as Daiki struggled for words. Daiki had never wanted flowers before; had never spent more than a few seconds thinking or looking at flowers, but now that he had some, he felt oddly pleased. Though Daiki was not a flora man, he did have an affinity with living things (he was a huge animal lover) and somehow, these flowers felt precious.

“So that’s what you were doing downstairs,” he muttered, knowing his ears were red but hoping Ryouta was too close to notice.

“Mmhm. And I bought some for your mum too. I checked with the florist and she said that they’d last longer if I put them in a vase straight away, so I’m hoping they stay fresh for when your mum comes back on Tuesday.”

Daiki’s mother was a saint and had left Daiki with a free house on Valentine’s Day.

“I’ve taken the day off on Monday and I’m spending a long weekend with your father in Hokkaido,” she’d said. Daiki’s father had been stationed in Hokkaido for a month now on business; he was one of the managers at a fresh food company and was their expert on seafood. With a mischievous glint in her eye and an offhand attitude, she’d continued, “Why don’t you invite Ryouta round? I don’t want you to get lonely.”    

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Daiki muttered, “We agreed didn’t we? Valentine’s Day is for girls who fancy guys, and want to confess. We’re already together so—

“We shouldn’t have to buy each other anything. And we shouldn’t exchange gifts just because the date says so,” Ryouta finished.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Well,” Ryouta hummed, “I thought that was just so you could get out of buying me a present, so I agreed. But I still wanted to buy my Aominecchi something, so I did. Don’t feel bad about it or anything, okay?”

Ryouta sat himself up and peered at Daiki’s profile. Daiki glanced at him, seeing his boyfriend’s easy-going smile, but then returned his gaze to the bouquet of flowers straight in front of him.

“Idiot,” he said, “I wasn’t trying to get out of buying you anything. Look under the bed.”

Ryouta let out a surprised “Eh?” before clamouring over Daiki and propelling his head under the bed like the excited child that he was.

“Oh my god what did you get me?!” He squealed, arms reaching out to grab stuff from under the bed as his legs remained sprawled over Daiki. He pulled out a stack of magazines, a box containing miscellaneous items from Daiki’s childhood, a photo album, some scraps of paper that looked like they’d once been study notes, and a half-eaten most definitely stale pack of potato chips. Ryouta scrunched up his nose at those. He carried on dragging things out until he found a box, wrapped in one of Daiki’s shirts.

“I didn’t wanna wrap it up with anything sparkly and shit in case you saw it when you came in,” Daiki said as Ryouta tilted his head in confusion. Taking this as confirmation that this was indeed his gift, Ryouta's eyes lit up as he eagerly undid the knot that fastened Daiki’s shirt around the box.

The box itself was white with the name of a clothing brand Ryouta knew from Shibuya 109 Men’s written in embossed gold letters on the front. It was his favourite clothing brand: the one he could only afford after he did a particularly big photoshoot or event.

“Holy—

He fumbled with the cellotape that stuck the box together as Daiki watched, amused. When he finally managed to open it, he found a large, thick cream-coloured scarf with a single blue line running vertically across it. Even in his excitement Ryouta was agile, because after a brief few seconds of admiring the softness of the scarf, his eyes widening as he felt the material in his hands, he flung himself at Daiki with an ungraceful sob.

“Yo, are you okay?” Daiki said, slightly confused at the dampness he was feeling through his shirt, “I’m happy you like it but it’s just a scarf.”

“It’s _just a scarf_?! It’s not just a scarf! This is the first thing you’ve given me that isn’t edible or perishable!” Ryouta sniffed, almost strangling Daiki with the force of his arm around his neck, “And you must have saved to get this. And you must have gotten help.”

Ryouta was peppering kisses indiscriminately all over Daiki’s face so that the dark-skinned man could barely keep his eyes open.

“Yeah, well. I still live at home and stuff so it’s not like I’m spending a lot of money,” Daiki muttered an excuse, just as Ryouta caught his lips in his own. Daiki closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the touch until Ryouta broke free and sat back on his knees, finally a little calmer but still somewhat moist in the eyes.

“Was it your mum or Momocchi who helped pick it out?”

“Satsuki.”

“I really need to thank her...”

Ryouta fished his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans, but Daiki snatched it out of his grasp.

“Hey!” Ryouta wailed, “Give that back!”

“Nope,” Daiki grinned as Ryouta’s face fell. He knew that grin—he’d know that seductive smile anywhere. “I want my reward first. You made me wait two hours and I’ve been horny since I woke up.”

Ryouta pouted but set the scarf aside. He dropped his shoulders back, slipping his plain blue jacket off as he clicked his neck to both sides like he was preparing himself for some intense exercise. Holding the hem of his white tee-shirt, Ryouta pulled it up over his head in one fluid motion, stretching out his arms and arching his back as he displayed his toned abs to Daiki. Daiki felt a little breathless, seeing the way Ryouta's eyes shone, half-lidded; his perfect hair messy from taking his top off.

Ryouta tossed his tee-shirt to one side as he leaned forward, expertly sliding his hands under Daiki’s top and pressing their groins together. Daiki moaned as they kissed.

“Don’t do anything,” Ryouta muttered into Daiki’s ear as he undid his own belt with one hand; sliding his other into Daiki’s underpants. “We have until Tuesday, and I’m not holding back one little bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that either of them have class on Monday or anything...
> 
> Okay, so this was a surprise update! There's some extra sap for Valentine's Day and not much plot progression, but I just wanted to do something for V-day because any excuse to celebrate with the otp (￣︶￣) Thank you for the comments and kudos! I hope this warms some people's cold toes in this horrible February weather, and I will update once I get the next chapter done. 
> 
> Also, I edited this on 15/2/2016 because I posted this far too quickly and didn't beta it beforehand ^^;  
> (I even edited the Notes because woooow, I really rushed to post this in time lol ~~sorry it's no excuse for poor writing orz~~ )


	3. Dancing Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryouta does Himuro a favour, and Kuroko is perceptive as always. OR: Daiki and Ryouta are never as subtle as they think they're being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired partly by [Listen to the Sea](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f1vOUZq_vsQ) by Vivian Koo.

The main female lead turned to face the audience, her face half lit by a pale blue light acting as the moon. She took a deep breath, her expression sorrowful as she started singing a slow ballad with a simple tune. The lights danced behind her, forming the waves of the ocean. As her voice grew in confidence, dancers appeared from the side of the stage, dressed in turquoise and green, moving to the pattern of the lights; synchronising their movements to create one fluid motion with their combined bodies, flitting around the stage smoothly like water.

Two people appeared from between the wave-like dancers. A girl, slender but slight, and a boy, tall and athletically built. Both their faces were hidden with silver masks lined with glitter, but it was clear to everybody in the hall who the boy with the golden hair was.

As the dancers rose and fell around them, the boy and the girl faced one another and began to move in circles. When the boy held out his arm as though to caress the girl’s cheek, the girl turned her face away, denying him the touch. She leapt away him, her hands clutched to her chest; he reached out to her, his posture graceful and forlorn. He stepped towards her—one, one two, one two, one—then tried to touch her shoulder, but the girl shrunk in on herself before he could. She flung her arms out backwards, as though she were a bird spreading her wings. Then she brought them forward, wrapped her wings around herself as the boy wrapped his arms around her; then they repeated the motion of shrinking and spreading, shrinking and spreading, in perfect time with each other.

From there they danced in harmonious unity: when the girl swept her feet to the left—one two, one two—the boy did the same—one two, one two. 

As the female lead began to build up to the final chorus, the turquoise and green dancers, who had been fluttering their arms lightly as they rose and fell gently around the two masked dancers, began to move faster. Their movements were still elegant but contained more strength; they spun themselves closer to the two masked dancers who continued their joint leaps and smooth, intimate almost-touches.

Suddenly, as the female lead reached the climax of her ballad, the dancers parted like a curtain being drawn to make room for the two masked dancers who spun away from each other to stand at opposite ends of the stage.  

The lights that had been making silk-like patterns along the whole stage merged into one spotlight as the female dancer took two steps back before jumping into the boy’s arms, just as the female lead belted out the words “ _But you were meant for me_ ”, stunning the audience and creating a hushed atmosphere in the theatre with the impact of her voice. She held the note as the blond boy held the female in his arms, supporting her back as he lifted her up and rotated slowly to centre-stage.

The blond boy stood at the centre holding his female colleague high above him. Though he held her with an impressive stillness, front row audience members could see the strength it took for him to perform such a lift—the muscles on his arms were bulging and one girl swore she could see a blue vein, pulsing. The concentration of the light made the boy’s tight tank top translucent so that in his stretched position you could see the outline of his well-developed stomach muscles. Together, dressed in white, the still masked dancers looked like the crest of a wave. As the female lead finished her last line and the orchestra came to a quiet, the piano settled the final note and the lights faded out.  

There was silence, the audience having held their breath during most of the enchanting performance. But then, after a few seconds, the hall erupted into cheers and applause.

“That was stunning,” Kuroko commented.

“Y-Yeah.” Kagami agreed, at a loss for words. He’d been clenching his bottle of Pocari Sweat a little too hard having intended to take a sip of it before the masked dancers had taken his breath away. “What did Tatsuya say? It took Kise five hours, right?”

“Yes.” Kuroko smiled. “As expected of Kise-kun. What did you think, Aomine-kun?”

Daiki couldn’t think—wasn’t thinking. His palms were sweaty and he felt a little sick. Had he been having relations with some mythical creature this entire time? Was his boyfriend real, or was he actually some trick of the light; had some celestial being managed to find a way of capturing moonlight in the form of Kise Ryouta?

One elbow on the armrest, Daiki grunted and focused on the stage, where the lights were turning back on. Kuroko stared slightly at Daiki as the audience fell silent once more. Ryouta’s part in the play was done, but they still had the rest of the performance to watch.

*

Honestly, Ryouta didn’t know why he agreed to do it.

Which was a lie, because Ryouta liked challenges and liked doing things he’d never tried before. Because people had always told him that dance was more an art than a sport, he’d never tried it in middle or high school, so really, he’d been fairly curious when Himuro approached him.

“Ryou-oh-cha-an!”

A pair of cold hands covered Ryouta’s eyes from behind. Ryouta smiled at the familiar gesture.

“What’s up Himurocchi?”

Himuro and Ryouta had encountered one another nowhere else but at the first basketball practice of the year. They’d been surprised that they were both attending the same university (Himuro studying theatrics and drama; Ryouta ‘studying’ business but primarily taking art classes), but they weren’t really _that_ surprised. After all, universities with famous basketball teams were as limited as high schools with famous basketball teams, and there was bound to be some overlap. Kagami and Kuroko were together of course, and Hyuuga and Riko were with them too. Midorima and Takao were together; Daiki had somehow ended up with Kasamatsu as his Captain (“How did you ever deal with him?!” they both individually messaged Ryouta after their first practice together). So of course, meeting someone familiar at basketball practice wasn’t a surprise at all—it was just that Ryouta and Himuro had never thought it’d be each other.

“Where’s Murasakibaracchi?” Ryouta had asked at that first practice as they ran laps around the gym to warm up.

“Atsushi?” Himuro had smiled fondly. “He’s gone to study as a pastry chef, so he’s at a specialist cooking school. No basketball team there unfortunately.”

And Ryouta had been surprised because he had thought he’d seen enough of Murasakibara to know that he was going to pastry school, but then, he supposed, when the GoM got together they usually played basketball for three to four hours and only really spent about half an hour talking afterwards in Maji Burger. And that was if Murasakibara could even make the meeting, what with living in Akita during term time.

Then again, Ryouta thought, reminding himself of his de facto secret relationship, it wasn’t like they all knew _everything_ about each other.

It didn’t take long after that first basketball practice for Himuro and Ryouta to become fairly good friends, and before long, Ryouta found themselves meeting on campus for lunch, exchanging phone numbers, and snapchatting one another and sending silly selfies.

_“Is that...that guy who played for Yosen with Murasakibara?” Daiki muttered one evening, looking over Ryouta’s shoulder as they cuddled, watching a movie on Ryouta’s laptop in Ryouta’s dormitory. The overprotective security guard who usually got some sadistic pleasure out of denying any of the dorm residents visitors after nine in the evening was on holiday in Hawaii that week._

_Ryouta giggled. “Yeah. Himurocchi goes to the same university as me.”_

_“You always send each other weird selfies?” Daiki asked, shifting slightly so his grip around Ryouta’s waist tightened a little._

_“Not always,” Ryouta replied, leaning back and kissing Daiki on the cheek. “Just sometimes. But yes. We’re friends.”_

_Daiki grunted but seemed satisfied with Ryouta’s response. He kissed twice by Ryouta’s ear before turning back to the movie._

“Weeeell,” Himuro began, spreading himself across the table Ryouta was currently occupying in a corner of the library. Ryouta liked the library sometimes; he was rarely disturbed there, mostly because fans were usually loud and consequently expelled by the librarians.

The model laughed softly—he knew what that pose meant.

“No. Last time you asked me for a favour it was to attend your Acting for Amateurs class, and I think your other participants almost ate me alive.”

“True...but we had the best turn out for that class! And you won’t believe how great it looks on my resume when I tell people I organised an acting class that was so popular there were queues outside before I even opened the doors!”

“Stop using me for my popularity!” Ryouta wailed, but he hardly meant it. The Acting for Amateurs class had actually been sort of fun, but Ryouta had been annoyed with how many people thought _acting_ meant it was okay to _touch_ him. It wasn’t like Ryouta was sensitive to being touched or anything—a stroke on the arm, a pat on the head, he could handle—but the class was for two hours, and he felt a little uncomfortable afterwards.

Himuro smiled apologetically. “But I won’t be this time! Promise!”

Ryouta sighed exaggeratedly but put down the book he’d been trying to read for the past hour. He took off his fake glasses and ran his fingers through his hair dramatically. “Fine. What is it?”

“You know how it’s exam season right now...” 

Ryouta raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the opened books scattered all over his table. Granted, almost every book had a doodle in the corner from when Ryouta had tried to make a pictorial flip book in class, but he _was_  actually using them.

“Hahaha, okay, sorry for stating the obvious. Buuuuut for us guys studying drama, we’re holding a production as our final assessment for the year. And guess who’s sick with the flu?”

“The main male lead?” Ryouta guessed, unimpressed. Sometimes he thought his life was some sort of scripted movie—he’d started thinking this more since he and Daiki had somehow ended up together, and then he’d thought it _even_ more since they’d stopped arguing as much after the first few months. It seemed a miracle to Ryouta that he and Daiki were in a functioning romantic relationship; it was surreal, and better than any fantasy fourteen-year-old Ryouta could have imagined about his basketball crush.

Himuro scoffed. “No you narcissist! Why would we ask _you_ when we have understudies for those sort of roles?!”

“Then who?!” Ryouta crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, pretending to be grumpy but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.

“One of our dancers. He’s on the baseball team and managed to dislocate his shoulder this morning. Can you step in for him?”

“You don’t have an understudy for your dancer?”

“No. Unfortunately he’s the only one on the dance team who can do the leaps _and_ the lifts...”

“Right...”

Himuro pouted and Ryouta had to admit—if there was anyone who did puppy-dog eyes just as well as he did, it’d probably be Himuro. In fact, Himuro might even be _better_ at it than Ryouta: after all, he only used one eye, what with the other always covered by his hair. Lord knows what would happen if Himuro used _both_ eyes. Ryouta shuddered at the thought.

 _No wonder Murasakibaracchi shares his maibo with him,_ the blond thought wistfully.

“Okay, fine. How much time do I have?”

“Performance is tonight. You have until six when the curtains open.”

“What the—it’s eleven right now!”

“Yeah I know. Is seven hours too much?”

Himuro smirked as Ryouta blinked blankly at him.

“...Okay then. I can have lunch now and if you give me an hour to digest, I can do it in five.”

“You’re such a show-off, Kise Ryouta.”

Himuro laughed, rolling his eyes as he thanked Ryouta with a pat on the shoulder. As he headed towards the library exit, waving over his shoulder, he shouted, "See you in the dance hall in two hours! Don’t be late!”

The librarian reprimanded Himuro, who’d completely forgotten he was in the library. Ryouta saw Himuro place both hands over his mouth, mumbling an embarrassed apology as he practically tiptoed outside the library; bursting into laughter, Ryouta too was told politely to leave.

*

“Kurokocchi! Kagamicchi!” Ryouta exclaimed, wet wipe in his hand as he cleaned the heavy foundation and glitter off his face. His smile faltered a little when he saw a tall, dark, familiar face hovering just behind the ex-Seirin duo. 

“Yo, Kise!” Kagami lifted a hand to greet Ryouta.

“Hello Kise-kun,” Kuroko smiled gently. “You must be tired after that performance. You were amazing out there.”

“Thank you,” Ryouta beamed, holding the ends of a towel draped around his neck. “I thought you guys might be here to support Himurocchi, but I wasn’t sure, so it’s good to see you! I’ve missed you Kurokocchi!!”

Kuroko smiled weakly as Ryouta embraced him in a tight, vice-like hug.

“Kise-kun.” Kuroko’s voice was muffled by Ryouta’s chest. “Aomine-kun also came to see your performance.”

Ryouta released Kuroko and nodded in Daiki’s direction. Daiki, who’d been looking adamantly at the floor, glanced up at him and returned the nod. Ryouta continued, “What did you think of the lights? It wouldn’t have been half as amazing a performance without Himurocchi’s lights. Did you see how he directed the dancer’s movements using the beams? It was really cool!”

Ryouta was deliberately avoiding addressing Daiki. There was an awkwardness that lingered in the air as Daiki, also, avoided stepping any closer to or looking directly at Ryouta. Kuroko, ignoring Ryouta’s comment, looked over his shoulder and called out, “Aomine-kun. Didn’t you think Kise-kun was good too?”

Daiki frowned and coughed. “Yeah. Was good.”

Ryouta blushed slightly and bit his lip as he broke into a smile. “Thank you Aominecchi.”

When Daiki finally looked up from the floor and met eyes with Ryouta, their gaze was familiar, and Daiki had to fight to keep his face frowning. All of a sudden, the air between them was awkward, but for a completely different reason.

 _What are you doing here?!_ Ryouta’s eyes, wide and blinking, seemed to say.

 _We had plans but then you ditched me! So I made plans with Tetsu! And he dragged me to this thing with Bakagami!_ Daiki’s eyes, narrowed, seemed to say.

 _Have you told them about us?!_ Ryouta’s eyes, still wide, darted in Kuroko’s direction briefly.

 _Are you shitting me?! No!_ Daiki’s whole face said.  

“Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said, eyes vacant as he tugged on his light’s sleeve, “Is Himuro-kun also on a break right now?”

“Yeah, s’interval for everyone so should be,” Kagami said, munching a packet of crisps he’d bought from a vendor on their way backstage. “Why? You wanna go find him?”

“Yes. I think that’d be best. See you after the show, Kise-kun.”

Kuroko marched defiantly out of the room without looking back, dragging a very confused Kagami with him.

Even though it was the interval, backstage was still a buzz of commotion. Daiki rubbed the back of his neck and glanced all around them to check if anyone was looking—but Ryouta had none of the same concerns. With one swift step forward he broke into Daiki’s space and embraced him. Their non-existent difference in height meant Ryouta could easily lay his chin on Daiki’s shoulder as he sighed and leant his whole body against the dark-skinned ace. Daiki, as though by reflex, found his arms reaching up to wrap themselves around Ryouta's torso, his left hand moving to cup the back of Ryouta's head. Ryouta turned and buried his face into the side of Daiki’s neck, placing a kiss there.

“Do you know how shocked I was when we got here and Kagami’s brother or whoever suddenly said you were in the play?” Daiki mumbled, a little on edge because of all the people rushing to and fro around them.

Ryouta pulled away, grinning. Unlike Daiki, he seemed relaxed and at ease despite the general chaos all around them; or perhaps, it was because of the chaos that he felt so unconcerned about displaying open affection towards his beloved. After all, in the midst of so much action, nobody seemed to care what they were up to; it was like nobody cared about their existence—their joint existence—and Ryouta was happy about that freedom.

“I was gunna tell you about why I ditched you in more detail later. Promise.” The blond giggled mischievously, looking pleased with himself. Daiki scowled.

“You little shit. I thought you were in trouble when you said you had an emergency to sort out...”

“It was an emergency! Himurocchi's emergency!" Ryouta pouted. He kissed the palm of Daiki's hand then rubbed his cheek against it. Smiling, he said, "But I'm sorry for making you worry Aominecchi.”

"Yeah, well...so you should be,” Daiki muttered, smiling lopsidedly. He let Ryouta lean against his hand for a while, and the moment was tender until Daiki noticed Ryouta's shoulders shaking as he tried to stifle a laugh. Daiki frowned, suspicious.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Ryouta said, biting his lip and trying so hard not to laugh, he was squinting. Daiki's frown deepened.

“Spit it out. You look constipated,” he said, as though looking constipated was a threat. 

“I just...ah, I got glitter all over your face, sorry. You're _sparkling_.”

Ryouta, who was not sorry at all, cackled with laughter as Daiki furiously inspected himself in a nearby mirror, the back of his ears and neck burning red.

*

“Are you sure it was all right to leave Aho with Kise back there?” Kagami wondered aloud as he and Kuroko headed back to their seats having spoken briefly with Himuro. Himuro had been surrounded by his theatrical friends but was accommodating as always.

“Did you notice anything strange between them back there, Kagami-kun?”

“Hmm I don’t know. Aho was being weird I guess... Does this have anything to do with what you said a couple weeks ago? About how weird it is that we never see the two of them in the same place anymore?”

“Yes. It has everything to do with that.”

They arrived quietly back in their seats, just as the ushers began to shout for people to get ready for the second half of the play.

“Where’s Aomine?” Kagami asked, frowning at the empty seat next to Kuroko.

“I don’t think he’s going to be back for the second part, Kagami-kun.”

Kuroko’s eyes gleamed as he glanced briefly over his shoulder and out through the glass doors at the back of the room. It could have been his imagination, but he was fairly certain that he caught a glimpse of blue and gold, slipping away from the premises. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't dance or do theatre so if you've tried to do lighting or stage productions or musicals etc. and this chapter was grossly misinformed then I do apologise orz ~~I just like watching because homg musicals and plays and stuff~~


	4. This Time Last Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryouta reminisces about how he and Daiki got together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt the need to write about their back story a little. I considered doing an entirely separate fic for how they got together, which I still might do, but it'd be a multi-chapter and would take quite a while.
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to all the wonderful Aokise writers in this fandom. Your stories on the love between these two baka inspire me to write more stories on the love between these two baka. Hope you enjoy this, and please do leave me your thoughts :)

Spring break had begun and Ryouta was sitting idly on a half-empty train into central Tokyo. The sakura were about to bloom; preceding them were the plum blossoms, a far richer pink than their cherry cousins. Dollops of pink flitted across the train window as Ryouta listened to his music and reminisced.

This time last year, he had been in a completely different state of mind. Somewhat woeful and less eager than he should have been to begin an exciting new journey into the land of University Students, Ryouta had been desperate to hang on to his old school days, and in his desperation he had dedicated his entire spring vacation to wooing one man.

Or so, he’d call it ‘wooing’ a few months later, when Daiki would try and claim credit for starting their relationship.

_“I’m the one who put in all the hard work,” Ryouta said, sporting a fierce pout._

_“I’m the one who confessed,” Daiki retorted._

_“Yeah but you wouldn’t have if I hadn’t of asked you to spend almost every day of spring break with me,” Ryouta said sulkily. He drew his shoulders back to make himself look taller. Daiki, who’d been slouching, narrowed his eyes and echoed his body language. A few inches taller than Ryouta, it didn’t look like the blond could win this display of male posturing._

_“You hardly did that to try and win me over,” Daiki said, determined to win this argument._

_“Did too.”_

_“Did not. You just wanted to spend time with me. You weren’t ever going to confess to me.”_

_“Not true! I would have if...well, fine, but obviously I made all those plans for us so you could see how wonderful I am and sweep me off my feet.”_

_“Uh huh. So it was me who did the sweeping, and me who confessed, so it was me who started us. So, in conclusion, you should pay for this.”_

_The two boys narrowed their eyes at one another as the vendor manning the takoyaki stall stared at them vacantly._

_“Look, I don’t care who pays, but you guys are holding up the queue. Give me my money or you’re not getting any takoyaki,” the man said lifelessly._

_Daiki couldn’t stop the smug smile that reached his lips as with a twitch by his eye, Ryouta pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and paid for two dozen takoyaki._

_“Just so you know, I’m eating at least half of these because I paid for them,” Ryouta grumbled as they walked away from the stall._

_“Okay,” Daiki shrugged, holding his own dozen out of reach as he took one of Ryouta’s without a second thought._

This time last year, Ryouta genuinely thought he’d gone mad. Equally, when he’d turned up unannounced at Daiki’s house on the first day of spring break, Daiki had looked at him as though he was crazy.

“Kise? What are you doing here?” Though surprise laced his voice, Daiki didn’t sound too annoyed even as he yawned, the sleep still in his eyes.

“Aominecchi! Sorry, did I wake you?”

Ryouta was nervous but he was used to hiding his nerves, so he spun the basketball in his hand instead, drawing Daiki’s attention.

“Oh, you wanna play ball?” Daiki suddenly seemed a lot more awake. “Hang on, I’ll get my shoes.”

Ryouta remembered the relief that washed over him as Daiki shut the door and how his hand that had been fiddling with the basketball instantly stopped shaking. He remembered exactly how Daiki looked when he’d re-emerged in a black tee-shirt, loose basketball shorts and with his good shoes on; the grin on the taller man’s face that had sealed Ryouta’s fate. That grin had simultaneously confirmed to Ryouta that 1) after all this time he was still very much in love with this man and that 2) there was no chance he would win that day’s basketball game.

It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, and it was only after Daiki had picked up on it (“You’re playing pants today. What’s up with you?”) that Ryouta’s competitive spirit was reignited; he played better from then, but still not good enough, and even then, his rebounds were far too slow for someone who was supposed to want to win.

Daiki stood under the hoop after dunking, hands on his hips and a frown on his face. “Seriously? You’re just going to stand there? Why’d you ask me to play if your head’s not even in the game?”

Ryouta instantly felt guilty—both to Daiki and to basketball. But he had been preoccupied, trying to etch the image of Daiki’s dunk—the way he swung from that hoop like a gymnast or an acrobat—deep in the membrane of his mind so that if he chickened out of his insane and unreasonable ‘spend every day of spring break with Aominecchi’ plan then at least he’d have this moment to remember.

Breaking out into a grin because he really had nothing better to say than _“I just wanted to spend time with you”_ in response to Daiki’s question, Ryouta spun on his heel and ran for the ball, reaching it just before Daiki caught up with him. They played breathlessly, laughing in between their mutually ridiculous freeform shots.

“You can try all you want but I’m still king of freeform,” Daiki had boasted, drinking half his bottle of water in one go. They sat on the grass next to each other, under a low hanging tree burdened with early-sprouting plum blossoms.

“Whatever. You know that half those shots I made looked nothing like yours, and that you couldn’t make them if you tried.”

“Pfft,” Daiki snorted, looking amused, “ _You’re_ the copycat. I’m 100% original Aomine Daiki.”

Daiki looked so pleased with himself that Ryouta burst out laughing. The sweat on the back of their necks exaggerated the light breeze that blew across them, and for a moment Ryouta thought he was in one of those shōjo anime that he used to watch with his sisters when they were younger. Encouraged by the moment, he forced out the sentence he’d rehearsed over and over in front of his mirror the night before.

“What are you doing tomorrow, Aominecchi?” He said, sounding all casual.

Daiki shrugged. “Dunno. Ma’s seeing oba-san in Nagoya and Satsuki’s on some graduation trip with her girlfriends in Seoul. I’m seeing Tetsu sometime but—

Seeing Ryouta’s face light up at Kuroko’s name, Daiki scowled. “You’re not allowed to come.”

Ryouta’s face was the picture of disappointment, but his heart was in fact much worse—he’d forgotten about the bond Kuroko and Daiki had, and how much he wasn’t a part of that bond. Feeling disheartened, Ryouta tried to smile but fixed his eyes on the ground.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t going to ask to come.”

Ryouta didn’t know this at the time and Daiki only told him much later on in the relationship, but Daiki had cast a sideways look at Ryouta then, a little concerned at how the blond wasn’t whining or arguing like he thought he would. Daiki confessed to Ryouta later that he’d thought maybe Ryouta and Kuroko had had an argument.

“Why’d you ask what I’m doing anyway?” Daiki muttered after an awkward silence. Ryouta was hugging his knees to his chest and watching a ladybug climb a strand of grass to his left.

“Well,” Ryouta considered ditching his plan, but then he thought he was already feeling down so he might as well get complete rejection over and done with. “If you’re free, do you wanna play basketball again?”

There was a moment’s silence, which Ryouta didn’t understand because really, he hadn’t thought that it was such a complicated proposition. In fact, when he’d been planning this whole thing the night before, he’d suppressed his wild desires to do other things with Daiki in favour of their joint mistress, basketball. Ryouta had decided that for the first week of his ‘spending every day of spring break with Aominecchi’ plan, they would stick to basketball because that was the choice most likely to 1) make Daiki agree to spend time with him when they hadn’t spent quality time together alone since Teikou and 2) to ease Daiki into agreeing to spend more time with him doing other things, which included everything from volleyball at the beach to eating sundaes at Ryouta’s favourite ice cream parlour in Kanagawa.

A voice in Ryouta’s head had said _Don’t you think you might be manipulating Aominecchi?_ But Ryouta had pushed it aside with a fervent, _It’s now or never. How long are you going to be in love with this guy without trying to get him, Ryouta?_ And really, that had been the bottom line—it had hit Ryouta that if he could go through three years of high school and still feel that way about the ace, then he could very likely go through four years of university and still feel the same. The thought terrified him, and it spurred Ryouta to give himself an ultimatum.

 _Spend every day of spring break (caveat: or as many days as possible) with Aominecchi,_ Ryouta wrote in a journal he’d bought for the occasion, _Have the best time with Aominecchi, cherish every moment, and be prepared to either confess or say goodbye to him by April 1 st when a new life begins. _

Ryouta turned his head to look at Daiki, who was taking far too long to reply to a simple question about playing basketball. Daiki was picking his nose.

“Ew!” Ryouta squealed. “Aominecchi! We’re in public! What are you doing?!”

“Pfft, there’s no one here to see but you,” Daiki said, unperturbed. “Besides, I don’t know why you’re being so weird about asking me to play basketball considering you just turned up at my house today to ask me the same thing. If you wanna play then sure, but you better play better tomorrow than you did today. You were better at the end but you were pretty lame the rest of the time.”

Knowing that he’d been distracted throughout the game, Ryouta didn’t deny this. Still, he was a proud person, so he managed to fake a look of offence.

“Don’t worry. You’re going down tomorrow.” Ryouta grinned, and he was lucky he was probably still red from running around, because Daiki’s smile in response was nothing short of breath taking.

Ryouta broke free from his nostalgic thoughts as the train pulled up at Shinjuku. He allowed himself to be pushed along by the flurry of people who got off the train, spacing out as the escalator took him to the floor where the ticket barriers and his boyfriend were waiting.

“Took you long enough,” Daiki grumbled, hands in his pockets and looking unimpressed.

“I wasn’t late was I?” Ryouta smiled, hand instinctively resting on Daiki’s bicep as a greeting. Their meetings in train stations (by far one of the most crowded places they met) often had the same pattern—although they had enough courage to sneak in a kiss or a squeeze of the hand by the time they parted, they always began with light touches.

“No, but you’re always early.”

Ryouta hummed happily as Daiki yawned. They made their way out of the station and towards the noodle shop that they liked to frequent on a back street near Korea town. The silence between them as they made their way through the throngs of people was comfortable, and again Ryouta thought about how much had changed since this time last year.

The first time Ryouta managed to get Daiki to do something that wasn’t sports with him was in Week 3 of his ‘spend every day with Aominecchi’ plan, and it had been to take Daiki to a shoe shop in Ikebukuro that sold limited edition basketball shoes. The silence as they rode on the train together to the shop that day had made Ryouta feel nauseous. He remembered the thin layer of sweat that coated the palms of his hands and how ridiculous he felt for being so nervous about something as small as taking Daiki to a shoe shop. Daiki, meanwhile, had remained slouched in his seat, dozing for almost the entire journey.

Using the Sunday crowds as an excuse, the couple reached for one another, holding hands as they steered their way out of the masses. When they finally turned off onto a side road that would take them in the right direction, Daiki squeezed Ryouta’s hand before letting go. Ryouta disliked how cold his hand suddenly felt.

“You seem spaced out,” Daiki commented, bumping his shoulder against Ryouta’s. “You okay?”

Ryouta stuffed his cold hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking about stuff.”

Daiki frowned. After a moment, he stuffed his hands in his pockets too, as though for solidarity. “You wanna talk about it?”

Ryouta laughed in spite of himself. Wonderful, thoughtful Aomine Daiki. This time last year, he wouldn’t have ever said that about the man, let alone think that he could be at the receiving end of Daiki’s kindness and selflessness. Sure, most people who were close to Daiki would say that he had a soft spot—but Ryouta never would have thought that he’d _become_ the soft spot. It was a miracle, and although a lot had changed, the Ryouta from a year ago and the Ryouta now could definitely agree on that.

“What’s so funny?” Daiki’s expression darkened.

“Nothing!” Ryouta replied merrily. Trying to lighten the mood and sooth his boyfriend’s concern, he added, “I was just thinking about what we were doing this time last year. Do you remember?”

Daiki looked suspicious, as though Ryouta was asking a trick question. “Not exactly. But if you still have that creepy diary you kept then I could just look in that?”

“It wasn’t creepy! Don’t say that about my precious memories!”

“Pfft. You planned out what you were gunna do with me every day for four weeks without telling me. How isn’t that creepy?”

“It was just a plan! If on any one day you didn’t wanna do something, then I changed the plan! Don’t make it sound like I forced you into seeing me!”

“You did sort of make me spend time with you though...”

“I _asked_!”

“Yeah, yeah. Asked, forced, same thing.” Daiki swung his arm around Ryouta’s shoulders and bumped their heads together.

“Aominecchi. Asked and forced are exactly opposite things. Do you not know anything about consent?” Ryouta scowled just as Daiki glanced around and snuck a kiss by his eye.

“Whatever. Anyway, why are you thinking about stuff like that now? You seem distracted and it’s ruining the mood.”

They walked on at a leisurely pace. Daiki’s warmth around his shoulders made Ryouta feel a little less grumpy about his chilly hands.

“Y’know, if I hadn’t of spent all that time _making_ you see me over spring break, you wouldn’t have missed me so much when we started university—

“You mean when you stopped talking to me when we started university.”

“...Fine. When I stopped talking to you when we started university and then—

“And then I wouldn’t have confessed to you. Yeah, yeah, you always say this.” Ryouta watched as Daiki rolled his eyes. He was about to complain when Daiki kissed him by the eye again. “I get it already. You’re just trying to make me pay for your bowl of noodles today, am I right?”

That wasn’t it at all, but Ryouta felt unable to object when Daiki was grinning at him like that. He sighed, stopped walking and placed his hand on the back of Daiki’s head, gently pushing their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss. Daiki didn’t object, gladly taking the lead and exploring Ryouta’s mouth with his own. When they pulled apart, flustered and somewhat aroused, they both looked around them to check that no one had seen before they carried on towards the noodle shop.

It was impulse to check, and Ryouta longed for the day when they didn’t feel compelled to do it anymore.

“You’re lucky,” Daiki said proudly. “I got paid yesterday so you can have the big bowl of tonkotsu today if you want.”

“Hm, I’m thinking I want the big bowl of miso ramen with an extra helping of gyoza today,” Ryouta mused.

“An extra helping of gyoza? I’m not made of money y’know,” Daiki scoffed. Ryouta laughed as they continued onwards, gently brushing their knuckles against one another as they walked.

*

“I think I’m gunna hurl,” Kagami said, both hands covering his mouth as he sat on the floor behind a garbage can. “I can’t believe they. I mean. Wow.”

“Now do you believe me, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said, a small smile adorning his lips as he half-heartedly patted Kagami on the back. He stared after his two middle school friends, feeling oddly proud of them.

“Well, yeah, but I mean, you really didn’t have to drag me along to this just to show me that they’re together. I mean. Wow. I don’t think I ever want to see them do that again.”

“It was just a kiss, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said. Of course, Kuroko also didn’t particularly want to see two of his closest friends share an intimate moment together, but at least they’d stopped at a kiss. If they’d gone any further, Kuroko would have had to make his and Kagami’s presence known—the path was too narrow to just slip away so easily once you were on it—and wouldn’t that have been a terrifically awkward conversation to have:

_‘Kurokoccchi, Kagamicchi, what are you doing here?!’_

_‘Nothing much, Kagami-kun and I were just passing by.’_

_‘O-Oh! Well, so were Aominecchi and I! We’re going to go eat noodles, do you guys wanna come?!’_

_‘No thanks, Kise-kun. We were really just passing by. Please carry on what you were doing with Aomine-kun...’_

_‘Tetsu it’s not like that.’_

_‘Aominecchi!’_

_‘I mean it is like that, but it’s not really...’_

_‘Aominecchi!!’_

_‘Kagami-kun and I will be leaving now...’_

...And wow that was not a conversation he wanted to have _at all_. Besides, Kuroko respected Aomine and Kise’s decision to keep quiet about their relationship. Though he wanted to be told, he could wait for them to tell him—it would be a shame for them to know he knew like this.

“I know, it’s not like I have a problem with them kissing or anything  but it’s _them_ and they’re both weirdos and it’s weird seeing weirdos be into each other...or something like that,” Kagami mumbled, looking a little flushed. “Anyway, can we go now Kuroko? I don’t wanna spend the day tailing them and if they do anything more than kissing I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at either of them in the same way again.”

Kuroko nodded, looking over the garbage cans they were hiding behind to check that Aomine and Kise were both sufficiently in the distance. Smiling serenely in a way he knew Kagami liked, Kuroko said, “There’s a shoe shop in Ikebukuro I’d like to take you to, Kagami-kun. Would you be interested?”

“Sure,” Kagami smiled, oblivious. “Makes a change to playing basketball or getting Maji burger, right?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids: Daiki's kidding, and asking and forcing are most definitely opposites.
> 
> That shoe shop in Ikebukuro sure is popular for basketball players falling in love. Why do I always write about food? Why am I always hungry? Life's mysteries.

**Author's Note:**

> I have this headcanon where Kise and Aomine's mum get along super well. I also really like the idea of cooking for the person you love (though I think I'm also just kinda hungry).


End file.
